


Back Again

by just_a_state_of_mind



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Army, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, artist!jean, soldier!Marco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 16:49:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2629109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_a_state_of_mind/pseuds/just_a_state_of_mind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco has come home from his fourth six month deployment and Jean is there to greet him at the airport.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back Again

Butterflies wriggled excitedly in Marco's stomach as he and the rest of his company walked through the arrivals gates at Heathrow airport. In front of him Eren was chatting happily at Mikasa about all the tv shows they were going to catch up on when they got home, and next to him Connie was all but screaming with the excitement of seeing his wife, Sasha, again. 

"I'm gonna go and sweep her off her feet, you know, all romantic and shit," he said, bouncing as he walked. "And then I'm going to take her out to dinner and we're going to eat our weight in pizza and breadsticks."

Marco laughed, only half paying attention, his eyes fixed on the crowd in front of them. It had been six whole months since he'd last seen Jean. Well, six months of only being able to see him over video calls where the shitty connection fuzzed out every other word so that they spent half their conversations shouting 'what!' at each other before giving up after about five minutes of actually tickling to each other. A poor substitute for the real thing.

And now the crowd was closer and he could see faces. Marco scanned over the people before him, searching for the scowling amber eyes, the sandy hair, pale skin. He would probably be wearing some faded t-shirt with a daft slogan on the front, a pun or lame joke, faded jeans, that tatty red beanie he'd had since university that no amount of cajoling or straight up bribery could convince him to throw out. Yeah, Marco could picture him exactly in his head, right from the two-toned undercut to the combat boots that hardly ever left his feet.

And then there was a shout, a long drawn out yell of "MARCOOOOOOO" and his arms were suddenly filled with excited, wriggling boyfriend, who wasted no time in plastering kisses all over his face. Marco held Jean close, feeling his warmth soak into him, soothing his tired bones. 

"Je t'aime," Jean whispered to him between frantic kisses, "Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime."

"I love you too," Marco laughed back, spinning Jean in a circle that had them both giggling like school children. He caught Jean's face between his hands, turning his head so he could see him clearly. He stared at him, drinking in every tiny little feature. The scar on his cheek from when he'd fallen off the back of Marco's bike last year, the flecks of gold in his fierce eyes, the crease between his eyebrows from where he'd frown with concentration whenever he painted. Marco took them all in, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything over the last half a year. He noticed with amusement that Jean had managed to smear blue paint down the side of his neck, and leant down to kiss him quickly over the sky coloured streak.

"I missed you so much," Jean sighed, wrapping his arms tighter and burrowing his face into Marco's shoulder. "God, how I missed you."

He said something else, but the accent, coupled with Marco's shoulder meant all that came out was a garbled string of syllables that Marco couldn't make sense of.

"What was that?" he asked, pressing a gentle kiss to Jean's temple. Jean lifted his head, a sly grin tugging at his lips.

"I said I'm going to take you home and I'm going to make you feel so good you're never going to want to leave me again," he chuckled as Marco's freckled cheeks flushed with colour and kissed him, long and deep and full of promise. 

"Quick march, soldier."

**Author's Note:**

> I have a headcanon that whenever Jean gets excited or over-emotional he forgets he can speak English and just rambles on in French.
> 
> In this, Jean and Marco met when Jean was nineteen and Marco was twenty. Jean was on a year studying abroad from a French art school and Marco was nearly halfway through his phase 1 training for the British Army. They probably met in a bar or something. Jean moved back to France to finish his course, Marco continued and finished training. Jean moved back to England there were mushy declarations of love and they've been living together for the past fourish years.
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


End file.
